A Girl in the Shadows

Chapter Eight

Shortly after arriving in Tampa, I became fond of Seventh Avenue. It was a street full of bars, night clubs, strange performing artists, and students who had ingested copious amounts of alcohol. Spindles of lights bridged one side of the street to the other. The booming of the three closest nightclubs found its way into my chest. The performer with the pythons, one around his neck and two in an old baby carriage, moseyed past me on the sidewalk.

The street was packed for a Wednesday. Then again, it was still early in the year and two other colleges weren't far off from the location. I pulled my cloak farther over my head, walked calmly past the two officers patrolling the sidewalk, and made my way over to a bench that faced the street, where a homeless man was smoking a fat cigar. He saw me and shook his Styrofoam cup, the coins inside jangling like an insult.

"Spare some change, miss?" he asked.

"I don't have any money," I said, pulling out the sketch. "Have you s—"

"You're standin' there in a University of Tampa shirt and don't have any money on you at all? Come on, now, don't be a liar. You go to the rich kid school."

I looked down and fastened the button on the front of my cloak. "Listen. I don't have my wallet with me." I turned the pockets of my jeans inside-out. "See? Now have you seen this girl? She's missing. I'm her friend and the last time she was seen she was in her Halloween costume. She had fake fangs glued to her teeth and was wearing a blue dress and black heels."

He leaned forward, taking the paper. "Looks a little familiar, but I've seen a lot of girls."

"You haven't seen a girl with fangs at all in the last three days?"

He shook his head. "No ma'am."

I snatched my sketch out of his grimy hands. "None of you bums are ever good to me."

I continued down the street, asking intoxicated kids on benches and the few homeless I could find. Not one had seen a girl in a blue dress with fangs. Perhaps Molly is like you. She left town. You missed her, and she's long gone by now. See, I told you you'd fail. What if there was nothing more to be done? I turned around and gazed at the crowd coming down the street, then searched for a cab. I could've spent more time with Tristan.

"She may have even tried to get back home," I said, walking in the other direction.

I spotted a cab driving slowly past the historic movie theater, but saw passengers already in the back. I waited on the sidewalk, watching the pedestrians to pass the time and scanning the crowd as my last hopes of finding Molly withered away. Out of the corner of my eye, a cab was slowing as a group of men in revealing costumes crossed the street. I raised my hand and the driver saw me. I got in.

"University of Tampa. Stop in front of The Van, and don't take the highway. I know your tricks. I want the direct route that costs six dollars," I said.

"You sure? Highway is faster," he said.

"I'm only paying you six dollars, whether you take the highway or not, so you may as well cut the crap and take the short way. I'm a local, not a student."

He answered only with a huff and a pound to the gas pedal. It was slow-going up the rest of Seventh Ave, but once we reached the end of the street things moved a little quicker.

What would you have done if you found her, anyway, fool? You're too weak to kill a conscious person. You only take them at when they're most vulnerable, you cowardly fool.